The Tenth Rule

Alice\'s reflection bit its lip. Her lack of sleep was evident in her face. Her skin was ghostly pale, with blue eyes swollen and ringed with purple. Her hair hung limply in her face, and Alice summoned up the strength to tie it back into a lacklustre ponytail. Her slim shoulders slumped. She looked terrible.



She hadn\'t slept at all. Not a second of light dozing, or that strangely pleasurable hovering between consciousness and dreams. Just one solid night of complete and utter alertness, squirming and writhing in bed, constantly plumping the pillows as if her thoughts had weighed down her head. Every time she looked at the clock, it brazenly seemed to laud the fact that mere minutes had passed. Alice was acutely aware of the sounds around her; the shifting of sheets over skin as her roommates moved gently in their sleep, snatches of breath, contented moans and sighs, the vibrant rhythm of her heart, blood thrumming in her ears. She had eventually propped herself up on her elbow and watched the fingers of dawn prod gingerly at the night, a dismal, oddly metallic grey filtering through the window.



Deciding that it was the earliest acceptable time to rise, Alice had made her way to the bathrooms. She moved quickly and deftly, the barely-there sound of skin on tile echoing off the walls as she darted inside. The air was cool and calm, and Alice relished it. She quickly disrobed, although she was alone, her actions jerky and self-conscious. She had always done that - even in the privacy of her own bedroom at home, she had swiftly undressed.



As the air was cool, the water was warm. Alice had not added any sort of product or potion to the bath, so the water was unusually clear. She refused to look down at herself, merely lifting her hands out of the water and holding them to the light. They glistened, and her trim, neat nails shone. Despite herself, Alice acknowledged their beauty. It seemed strange; people were rarely commended on the aesthetic qualities of their hands, but they were on display all the time, and quite an expressive part of the body.



\"Not even yourself?\"



Alice gasped as if slapped. Her eyes widened, and her mouth went slack. Given the hours in which to recuperate and mull endlessly, Alice seemed to have momentarily retreated into a milky denial. Of course, she was aware of what had happened the previous night, but her morals had pushed it far back into her mind. But now, with this recognition of her hands, Snape\'s voice had invaded, penetrated her mind.



She turned her head to the side, almost coyly, as if she were refraining from looking at herself. In doing so, Alice caught her reflection in a full-length mirror that stood in the corner, condensation gradually creeping up it like ivy. She blinked. With loose tendrils of hair curling damply about her face, and her neck arched over the lip of the tub, Alice looked strangely adult.



\"That would be because you are,\" she murmured aloud. That horrible sickening feeling settled in the pit of her stomach again, an overwhelming combination of guilt and acknowledgement. Placing a hand on either side of the bath, Alice gradually lifted herself out. did did not, however, reach for her towel. Instead, she padded slowly over to the mirror, and rubbed a cool hand over the steamed-up glass. Her reflection was slightly smeared, but clear enough for Alice to deliberately glaze her vision so that her nudity would not be displayed to her. In a moment of clarity, her logic intervened and told her that only hours before had her potions master seenher almost completely naked. Why should she feel any sort of privacy issues now?



Sighing, Alice reluctantly opened her eyes. The skin on her body was as pale as the skin on her face, and at times it possessed an almost luminescent quality. Her limbs were long and slender; the knobbly bones of her wrists protruding delicately, fingers thin and tapered. She ran her hands over her hips, feeling somewhat detached as she felt her fingers run smoothly outwards. She had watched her body alter with a morbid fascination, remembering blushing furiously when realising that she would have to purchase a bra, rubbing sadly at the red lines on her pelvis as her underwear tried to keep up with her broadening hips.



Her physical development was something eventual, even more so when compared to her sexual development. Alice had often considered or visualised how she hoped her initial sexual experiences would be like. Now that it had actually happened, it was in a way she could never have possibly expected or imagined, scorched on her mind, the neon glow of when one stares at the sun for too long. She closed her eyes and sighed.

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\"Oh, Alice…sorry!\"



Alice blinked hard and her mouth fell open. One of her roommates had stepped into the bathroom, and Alice was so preoccupied that she hadn\'t heard her come in. She groped for the towel, wrapping it messily about her, limbs tangled as she blushed furiously.



\"No, my fault. Sorry.\"



She darted out of the bathroom, her eyes so downcast that she didn\'t notice the other girl\'s quizzical look.



*******



Bethany immediately noticed that Alice was not at breakfast. Again, she reminded herself that Alice\'s far more fragile personality was easily chipped, and she had to mentally tell herself that Alice\'s breakfast absence should always be translated as emotional upset. Bethany propped her chin on the palm of a hand, her food uneaten in front of her. Her eating had been spasmodic, and it had made her lethargic. She raised her eyebrows and moved along as another girl squashed herself between Bethany and her friend. Normally, a sharp remark would be on the tip of Bethany\'s tongue, but not today.



What brewed within her made her uncomfortable. She had a cold, looming fear, a persistent, abstract feeling that nagged relentlessly at her. It poked playfully, spitefully at her mind, constantly assuring her that she was in trouble.



But she also had a hot, smouldering hunger that smoked her insides. Bethany had tried to wrest it out of her, wishing to wrench it out and let it be, but it didn\'t seem possible. It was as insistent as the fear, and twice as potent. For all her wit and sauciness, Bethany still felt small and inexperienced.



She also felt a pair of eyes fall upon her, in that odd, hollow way. She looked up, and felt as though she had been punched in the stomach. She had looked straight at Severus Snape, and her cheelushlushed crimson, and she was overwhelmed by the need to cry. Anger at herself for being so emotionally tempestuous; resentment for him for making her feel like this; and a gnawing sensation that she couldn\'t pinpoint, but it tasted bitter and caustic.



Letting her stomach growl anyway, Bethany pushed away her plate and placed her head on her folded arms.



*************



\"Where were you this morning? You could have at least told me if you weren\'t going to be there.\"



\"And when was I supposed to tell you, hmm? Beth, you know what I\'m like for missing breakfast. You\'ve got enough sense to work it out for yourself.\"



Bethany noted that Alice\'s pretty, delicately featured face was twisted with something, as though she had a dull pain and didn\'t want to contort her face completely.



\"What\'s the matter? Are you sick? You don\'t look too well. Is it your-\"



\"No, it\'s not.\" Alice paused. \"It\'s not,\" she repeated, quieter this time.



Bethany had hit a nerve. Alice had denied the fact that she had developed somewhat overnight. The last time she felt like this was at the onset of menstruation, which Alice had found vaguely traumatic - she fell into the group of young girls that find shame in it, as opposed to the second group who relished their physical maturity. In either case, the novelty wore off in a few months.



But unlike menstruation, Alice had a choice in the pace and situation of her sexual development. She had been passive, had allowed her teacher to touch her in such a manner. He had all but told her she was disgusting, and she believed every clipped, fiery syllable.



Alice pushed herself off the ledge in the lookout. A watery sun trickled through the window, and it gave her fair hair a halo-like glow. Bethany looked at her, and felt sickening envy pulse with one heartbeat. Pretty, dainty Alice. She could see why men would find her attractive. She envisaged Snape looking at her, wanting her. Why was Alice so withdrawn today? Had he been that malicious to her? Why didn\'t she tell her what had happened?



Bethany\'s breath hitched over her teeth as she started to say something, then stopped suddenly. Alice noticed, and her head jerked up.



\"What is it?\"



Bethany frowned, sighed, and stopped, her small movements irregular and disjointed.

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\"Alice…what happened last night?\"



Alice\'s eyes widened almost invisibly. Her heart leapt, and her mouth went suddenly very dry. She had mere seconds to decide what to tell Bethany. She knew she wasn\'t going to tell her exactly what happened, best friend or not. This was one of those secrets so awful and shameful that she would deny it to herself.



\"Detentions are bad enough sharing them with someone else, Beth, so imagine what it\'s like on your own.\"



Alice deliberately sidestepped the question. She had not made a true statement; cleverly leaving it to Bethany\'s imagination.



\"So...you mean it was more of the same sort of stuff he\'s had us doing?\"



Alice nodded into the distance, eyes unfocussed. Bethany felt her muscles tense.



\"But why would he hold you back to do exactly the same things? It seems a little pointless, don\'t you think?\"



\"I didn\'t make the decision, did I?\" There was an edge to Alice\'s voice that made Bethany flinch.



\"I don\'t particularly like going to detention, so staying behind to do more of the same things alone isn\'t my idea of a good time either.\"



She silently urged Bethany to stop questioning her. She could feel revelation brewing in her, despite herself, along with a rising sense of hostility, born of defence.



\"Well, yeah, but...you seem so different today. Kind of withdrawn. You know when he punished you in front of the class? Exactly the same as that.\"



Alice tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear with uncertain fingers.



\"No need for the third degree. Why\'s it so important to you anyway? I ght ght Snape was the one with the spying past, not you.\"



Her spiteful comment hung in the air, and it registered in Bethany\'s face. When she spoke, her voice was girlish and humbled.



\"I don\'t know, I just...I wouldn\'t want to be in a room alone with him, you know?\"



\"You think he\'d do something sexual? Oh any,any, please!\"

Bethany frowned slowly. Alice was never normally quick to make sexual assumptions.



\"I wasn\'t going to say that...\" she ignored Alice\'s mumbled \"oh,\" and continued \"...what I meant was that Snape isn\'t exactly the most pleasant of people. I wouldn\'t want to spend time alone with him.\"



\"You\'ll probably experience it first hand soon enough anyway,\" Alice sniffed, \"seeing as he wants to make the experience as difficult as possible for the both of us.\"



Both girls marvelled silently and simultaneously at their reactions to Alice\'s statement. Bethany\'s anticipation, a brief echo of hope, and Alice\'s cold, toxic pang of envy.



\"We\'re going to be late. Come on.\"



Bethany\'s v, we, weighed with reluctance, distracted Alice from her thoughts. Next lesson was going to be difficult on so many levels.



**********



\"Turn to page thirty-two in your textbooks.\" He didn\'t even look up from the stack of parchments he was holding, uttering the command as though these students should already know what page to turn to.



Alice\'s fingers trembled as she tried to locate the page, the wafer-thin paper quivering with her. She flapped and shivered, her efforts so frantic that the book fell with an embarrassing thud to the floor.



Snape\'s head snapped up, and his right eyebrow rose slightly. His stern expression betrayed the smirk that he suppressed.



\"I had hoped, Miss Pearson that you could manage the tasks set within the lesson. I did not, however, anticipate that you would stumble at the first hurdle.\"



Collective sniggers sent shivers down Alice\'s spine. Bethany watched her, and felt a pang of sympathy. She knew there was nothing she could do, even less so now that she and Alice were both under Snape\'s thumb. Detention was excruciating enough as it was.



Alas, Bethany was not the only person watching Alice. Snape was an expert at masking his gaze, and in doing so he took great pleasure in watching the girl panic. He had to admit that she was normally quite composed, but not when in the throes of frenzy. She bent at the waist, leaning awkwardly to the side, her pale knees together as her fingers snatched at the book. In that stretched position, her white school shirt hugged her young frame, and her skirt rode considerably up her thighs. Snape had seen so much more of her, but these tantalising glimpses were equally as enjoyable. He continued to watch as she finally retrieved the book and turned, flustered,the the correct page.



Bethany spared a glance at her friend. She let her eyes stay on her long enough for Alice to feel it.



Are you alright? She mouthed.



\"Miss Beddows, I have warned you of your interaction with your friend before. This class is not a social event. Although, of course, with your long spell in detention, I could quite imagine your desire to create yown.own.\"



Bethany could taste contempt rising in her throat, overcoming and strangely enhancing the arousal that had glowed within her. She had been the perfect student in his classes for the past two weeks, and the effort made her tired. In her momentary lapse, Bethany had rolled her eyes before lowering her gaze.



Snape caught it, and slowly set down the book he\'d just picked up. Bethany knew, as soon as she

heard the soft thwump of the book being placed on the desk, that she was in trouble. Her heart leapt in her chest, and she felt her mouth go dry.



\"Get up.\"



Fearing her legs would not support her, Bethany held onto the edge of the desk for as long as possible as she slowly stood up. To her utter embarrassment she felt the attention of everyone in the class.



“ Come here.” Snape ordered quietly, his voice laden with malice, his expression severe.



Her normally proud posture was slumped, and she slowly and deliberately placed one foot in front of the other, concentrating only on how much of Snape she could see as she got closer. To her surprise, he rose from his chair and backed away as she approached him, and without a word. She had at least expected a verbal lashing there and then.



She and the whole class watched as Snape walked to a more darkened corner of the room; a corner in which large quantities of various potions were stored. Alice was silently urging Bethany to turn around and look at her, but to no avail. He returned with two large, glass bottles, both of which were full with an aquamarine liquid, swirled with flecks of gold.



He stood tall before Bethany, and he felt a jolt of excitement as her large brown eyes finally met his own.



\"I am hoping to make an example of you, Miss Beddows.\" He could not make this exchange too personal or intimate. \"I can quite clearly see that you have a lack of tolerance for discipline. Well, allow me to demonstrate to you - and the class - my lack of tolerance for insolence. Now, hold out your hands.\"



From her seat, Alice\'s eyes grew wide, partly in horror at this punishment unfolding before her eyes, and partly from self-aimed hatred. In some odd way, she wanted to be in Bethany\'s position. Damn the class and their prying eyes, and damn the humiliation that came with the public nature of it. Snape\'s attention was entirely on Bethany, and Alice craved that.



Last night, she had his undivided attention. It was her body that Snape had touched, was her personality that he had manipulated with painful accuracy, and it was her that had aroused him. Just the thought of it made warmth bloom in her stomach, contrasting to the cold sting of his scolding.



She, quiet, unassuming Alice, had turned a man on. It was a fact far beyond her comprehension. Alice, who was pretty but never sexy, had bent lasciviously over a desk, and her partially clothed body was seen as arousing.



Her nudity, a fact that still niggled at her. Not even medical professionals had ever seen her so intimately, and her conscience frequently reminded her. It wrapped her in a strange blanket of shame and empowerment. She had disrobed, albeit partially and under a command.



She may have had Snape\'s attention last night, but now he had belittled her and was focussed on her best friend. Alice felt her brow crease.



Snape noticed Bethany\'s shuddering hands, and contained a glint of satisfaction. Such young, inexperienced hands. He thrust the glass bottles into them, and watched as she buckled under the weight. She had ctedcted them to be light, judging by the ease with which he carried them, but she did not take into consideration his far superior strength. Fear crashed quickly within her, not wanting to drop the bottles. Her elbows immediately bent.



\"I don\'t believe I asked you to bend those arms of yours.\"



Horrified, and straining, Bethany slowly stretched out her arms in front of her, already feeling the beginnings of aches.



\" Let me see if your obvious aversion towards the established disciplines of simple classroom etiquette also applies to any innate disciplines you may possess regarding your own physical strength. I dare say its just as weak but prove me wrong. Now, stand before the front desk. I don\'t want to hear another sound from you for the rest of the lesson.\"



With the leaden pace of a prisoner walking to their execution, Bethany awkwardly walked to the place Snape had indicated. She felt the classes\' eyes all over her, and shuddered.



Whilst Bethany was walking, Snape had subtly been watching Alice. He saw fear and dismay in her eyes at her friend\'s punishment, and he drank in her fear. No matter how passionate and enthusiastic her responses had been the previous night, he knew that she harboured fear of him. He would prolong her punishment, whereas Alice\'s initiation would be far more of a shock to her. He imagined how they would feel if Alice developed more quickly than Bethany - Alice\'s shame; Bethany\'s jealousy.



He continued with the lesson as though nothing had happened. Every time Bethany\'s arms slackened, he would clear his throat and shoot a glance at her, and her arms would immediately straighten. The pain was unbearable. It shot in reverberating bolts down her arms, making the muscles spasm, ebbing at her back and shoulders. Bethany would shift her weight every now and then, and even that didn\'t provide any relief. The pain had travelled to her stomach muscles, meeting up with the stiffness of her legs, and she wanted to scream; but she would not give in, she would prove that bastard wrong!



Bethany bit her lip so hard that her teeth made indentations. She did not allow herself to look at the clock. All she did know, however, was that it was mere minutes before the end of the lesson when one bottle slipped from her hand.



There was a \'clunk\' when the bottle hit the floor, immediately followed by the familiar cracking, splintering sound ofken ken glass. Then came the flowing liquid, virtually slithering across the ground, sinking into small ridges and chips in the floor. Bethany\'s arm remained outstretched, her mouth slack in horror. How she held onto the second bottle was anyone\'s guess.



A gasp came from the class, and for the first time since she had stood in the corner, Bethany\'s eyes met Alice\'s. Alice\'s face reflected her friend\'s, and Bethany felt hot tears prick at her eyes. Snape\'s head moved with a sudden jerk, his face took on a thunderous expression whilst his voice dripped with icy contempt.



\" So it seems that it is not only your mental capacity that is weak, Miss Beddows. I knew to render you entirely incompetent. You will stay behind after the lesson and clean that up.\"



He walked briskly over to her and snatched the other bottle from her hand. Bethany could hear nothing but the beat, like the flap of a heavy wing, of blood in her ears.



Snape stood before the class and addressed them.



\"Class dismissed. I trust that I do not have to remind you of your essays, despite student inadequacy being at an all-time high,\" he spoke, voice coated in venom.



The class dispersed quickly, much to Bethany\'s disappointment. She had frantically tried to attract Alice\'s attention, and was grateful when the girl turned to her on her way out. She had pointed to the outside corridor, perhaps indicating that she would wait? Bethany half-expected her not be outside afterwards; as she had experienced the previous night, there was often someone to usher you along. Soon enough, Alice was swept away with the rest of the class, and the last image that Bethany had of her face carried an expression of sympathy, but with unusually bright eyes. She was not crying - why would she be, reasoned Bethany - but there was a glassiness about her eyes that didn\'t seem right.



Dread had started to creep up inside Bethany. As soon as she heard Snape mutter a locking charm on the door, she momentarily raised her eyes to the ceiling, desperately uncomfortable. To her surprise, Snape sat behind his desk, preferring to speak to her from there.



\"Do you realise how expensive those potions are?\" He said, a ghost of a frown upon his face.



He was lying. Despite their expensive appearance, the potions he had chosen were everyday concoctions that were cheap in comparison to others that lined the shelves.



Bethany stood, miserable, among shattered glass, liquid now turning purple with its exposure to air.



\"I\'m sorry, Sir,\" she mumbled. Snape, his expression never changing, rose to his feet. Bethany felt her apology bounce back and slap her in the face.



\"Go to that cupboard over there and take out the blue cloth.\"



Bethany, walking as carefully as she had done earlier, approached the cupboard he had gestured to. The door creaked as she opened it, and she plucked out the correct cloth. When she returned to the spillage, she felt a cold splash of stupidity. Was she just to use the cloth, or would she have to use a bucket of water too? Was she required to wear an apron, in case the potion stained her uniform?



Snape\'s impatient, urging expression silently answered her questions.



Painfully slowly, Bethany lowered herself to her knees. She picked carefully at the chunks of glass, selecting the larger ones first, placing them neatly in a pile beside her. She stopped momentarily to glance at her hand. It shook uncontrollably, mainly due to the exertion of her earlier punishment, but also in anxiety. She swallowed and carried on.



The glass suitably cleared, Bethany dabbed at the liquid with the cloth, soaking it up. It coated her fingers with a luminous sheen, tiny particles of gold clinging to her skin. A strand of hair fell into her eyes; she puffed it impatiently away.



She shuffled backwards in order to clean up the rest of the potion. In doing so, Bethany knelt upon a piece of unnoticed glass, and cried out.



Snape, although he had one eye on her the entire time, looked at her completely. She rose slowly, hesitantly to her feet, bending over to inspect her injury. From what he could see, it did look quite serious - the glass appeared deeply lodged into her skin, and already blood trickled down her leg. He averted his gaze before she could make eye contact. He wanted to see how she would react.



He saw how she looked around helplessly, frantically, very much in the same way one hopes there are no witnesses when a wrongdoing occurs. He watched as she attempted to pick out the glass herself, hissing over her teeth when she failed. Those same fingers were brought up to her eye line, and slick with blood. She sighed when she saw him looking down at the stack of papers. Her reluctance excited him.



\"Professor Snape?\"



He looked up with staged irritation, his glare not softening as he registered her injury.



\"I\'ve...I\'ve cut myself.\"



\"I can see that. Can you remove the glass yourself?\" he murmured as his gaze returned to the sheaf of papers before him.



\"No, Sir.\"



Sighing, he rose from his chair and stood before the desk.



\"Sit in that chair. It will probably require attention.\"



Bethany walked as normally as possible to the chair before fiy fly flopping gracelessly onto it, bending over again to glance at her knee. Strands of her ponytail had come loose, and they partly shielded her face from Snape\'s gaze.



To Bethany\'s surprise, Snape knelt before her. She had only ever seen him standing tall, so this sudden change in posture shocked her. The long fingers of one hand cupped her calf, and Bethany gasped involuntarily. She masked it with a wince of pain. Professor Snape glared at her.





Despite his spiteful words Bethany felt a tightening in her stomach at his proximity. She felt that familiar tightening, tingling feeling in her breasts. She had to admit to herself once more that Professor Snape aroused her, and he hadn\'t even done anything!



With his free hand, Snape pinched the piece of glass and tugged surprisingly gently at it. She was right; it would not move without hurting her. He wished to prolong this experience, however, and her injury was not so serious that it required immediate action. Her supple smooth skin felt wonderful beneath his fingers.



\"With an injury such as this, we cannot remove the article immediately as it stems the blood flow. We need to elevate the limb for several minutes to reduce the flow when it is removed.\"



He was not lying, but Bethany\'s injury was hardly a stab wound. Nevertheless, he was the authority figure, and she would believe him. He had noticed that she had relaxed; momentarily relieved with his knowledge, and her other leg had become limp, and parted slightly. He could see the silken skin of her inner thigh, and he felt his pulse quicken.



As he raised her leg a little, the hem of her skirt grazed her cut, and Bethany flinched.



\"Lift up your skirt.\"



Bethany blinked at him.



\"I\'m sorry?\"



Snape looked at her with disdain.



\"It\'s an issue of practicality, Miss Beddows; lift up your skirt.\"



He knew that, unlike Alice, Bethany would interpret that as a sexual command. Had Alice have been sat in front of him, she would do so and see the medical purposes. However, Bethany had a more fertile sexual imagination, and he wanted her to feel shame. He was being professional,and she was wanting him to find pleasure in doing so. He had told Alice she was sexually disgusting, but it was Bethany who would feel guilty.



Bethany\'s fingers curled under the hem of her skirt, hitching it over her knee, and subconsciously higher than was necessary. Her fear mingled with her arousal, as it seemed to do recently, and her pulse was visible at the vulnerable skin of her throat. Snape felt the urge to press his tongue against the delicate protrusion of her clavicle.



His palm was flat against the back of her knee now, his longer fingers trailing up the back of her thigh. If he so wished, he could move his index finger to the right and be deliciously close to the hot hollow of her groin. If he wished.



Snape pulled a cloth from his robe pocket and pecked at the surrounding blood on Bethany\'s knee. He felt her thigh muscle twitch beneath his palm, and to his disguised astonishment, he could detect the subtle scent of her arousal.



His slender index finger moved upwards, but so carefully that even Bethany would not notice. He found what he sought, and suddenly jerked his hand back as if burned. She was indeed aroused; he had only touched her inner thigh.



\"Miss Beddows.\"



Bethany gazed at him with smoky eyes, glazed with surprise, pupils large and black.



\"Yes Sir?\"



\"I do not quite understand what you are experiencing here. I am administering medical care and you seem to interpret it quite differently.\"



He watched her face twist in embarrassment before being swiftly disguised with surprise.



\"I don\'t know what you mean, Sir.\"



He stood quickly, giving Bethany the impression that he was disgusted. She died inside. The situation could not be more different for him. Behind his back, he rubbed the tip of his index finger against his thumb.



\"Miss Beddows,\" he spoke quietly, yet sternly, \"place your fingers between your legs.\"



Bethany gaped at him like a fish dying on the deck. She felt so small, so belittled - she sat on this chair before him, he had backed away standing elevated on the dais beside his desk, commanding her.



\"W...what?\"



\"You are not deaf. I said place your fingers between your legs.\"



Bethany had never felt so embarrassed, shamed and humiliated in all her life, nor so sexually excited.



Snape noticed that as her shaking hand went beneath her skirt, Bethany\'s legs parted slightly with an element of wantonness. Despite her arousal, he knew this was not intentional. She was far too inexperienced to be a genuine temptress. Was it possible she was actually sexually stimulated by his presence, by his treatment of her? If that were so, she would need very little seducing to succumb to him. He interlaced his hands in front of him. He did not want her to realise how aroused he was.



Bethany\'s fingers slid slowly up her thigh, and she squeezed her eyes shut as her body silently made his point. She had not reached the hem of her underwear and already her fingertips were slick.



\"Now withdraw your hand, and tell me what you see.\"



Bethany\'s face crumpled. \"I can\'t.\"



\"You can and you will, I want you to see how ludicrous I find this entire situation,\" he snapped. He knew that shame would dilute the sexuality of the command.



When her hand came out of the dark shadows that her skirt provided, Bethany stole a quick glance at her fingers.



\"I believe I commanded you to do something, Miss Beddows,\" Snape urged.



When Bethany finally spoke, her voice shook.



\"They\'re...they\'re wet.\"



\"What are?\"



\"My fingers.\"



\"And why?\"



Bethany looked at him with hopeless eyes, looked at him as though he had asked her to kill someone, dark, painful eyes, full of mortification.



\"Please...Professor Snape.\"



\"Why?\"



\"Because...because I\'m turned on.\" The agony of this confession was unbearable.



Snape folded his arms, confident that the front of his jacket and his robes in this position would hide his arousal.



\"So you admit it. And what exactly brought about this arousal Miss Beddows?\"



His tone was laden with strained inquiry, as if what she had said would set some sort of mechanism going. Bethany gazed up through her lashes, her own voice uncertain.



\"You...\" She whispered tremulously.



Professor Snape raised both eyebrows, and for a nano-second that could easily be missed, he did look genuinely surprised before his features returned to stone once more. A student actually confessing to being aroused, by him? He\'d had growing suspicions during each detention but had not been that vain to be so cer.


\"Me,\" he spoke superciliously, his composure fully restored.



\"Yes.\" She was both terrified yet strangely exhilarated she had at last made this confession to him.



\"Tell me, Miss Beddows, how do you resolve your arousal? I am of course assuming that you have felt this before.\"



\"Resolve? Sir, I don\'t understand.\"



\"Do you masturbate?\"



Again, Bethany looked at him with horror in her eyes, deep within w was was an innocence that tugged wonderfully at Snape. He noticed that the top of her white sock was stained red due to the oddly childish cut on her knee. It seemed that she had quite forgotten it.



Snape desired to see how differently this girl would react to her friend, who he had posed the same question to.



Bethany paused, her downfall. \"No.\"



\"Don\'t...lie.\"



Her breath caught in her throat.



\"Yes, I do.\"



Snape inhaled deeply, mainly to give an impression of thought. But the heady mixture of the young girl\'s arousal, the sweet zest of the spilt potion and the coppery tang of blood were the main reasons for doing so.



\"So this is your confession. You do realise, Miss Beddows, that your behaviour is entirely inappropriate? To declare sexual interest toward a teacher?\"



\"Sir...I did not mean to offend you.\"



\"I expect that you do also realise that such inappropriate behaviour is treated very seriously? You have been in quite enough trouble recently, Miss Beddows, it would serve you to be...well-behaved.\"



Bethany started from the seat, nearly knocking it over in her haste. The sudden movement reminded her of the cut in her knee, and she fell back onto the chair.



\"Professor Snape, please! I honestly did not think it would cause offence, it was just an answer to a question!\"



\"Prove your honesty. You lied to me once before, I want proof of your declaration.\"



Bethany\'s hands gripped the edge of the seat. Snape folded his hands in front of him again, and his fingers grazed his hardness. He contained a moan.



\"I will now issue you with a command,\" he spoke, voice dripping in authority and velvety darkness, \"and you will obey it. I am issuing an instruction, Miss Beddows, and in order to remain in your current position within Hogwarts it would do you good to obey me.

\"Now, do the same as before, placing your fingers between your legs, but slide them beneath your underwear. Show me how you relieve this desire that you harbour.\"



He saw her hesitate.



\"A command, to be obeyed.\" His voice was little more than a snarled whisper.



He watched as her small fingers slid up her thighs, and he felt the sear of sexual heat burn in him as he momentarily imagined her hands to be his own. Even more exciting for him was the fact that he was not actually touching her - she was doing this for him.



Bethany squirmed in her seat, and not solely as a result of her arousal. Bethany, who had not even kissed anyone with any real passion before, was sat before her Potions teacher, indulging in an act that she even regretted to do alone. Still, she felt a delirious plunging sensation in her stomach as some innate desire delighted in this situation, the sickening, blatant voyeurism of it all, her complete exposure to him. Her complete submission.



Logic prodded coldly at her, but it could strangle her for all she cared - Snape\'s gaze, carrying with it his command, was unrelenting.



One hand prised her underwear gently away from her abdomen, and the other slipped underneath. Snape imagined how she would feel, if she felt anything like her friend, if she was as impossibly hot and tight as her, if her muscles would grip him as tightly. With legs open, her skirt bunched up about her thighs, skin alabaster smooth and silken, he watched as her fingers worked rhythmically beneath the material of her knickers. He had been surprised to see that she observed the rules of uniform, it added to his excitement.



He heard her restrain a moan as her fingers grazed her most sensitive part, despite herself. Her eyes closed, partly out of arousal, partly out of the fact that she wanted to deny herself the hard and fast situation - she was masturbating in front of her teacher, and he had not physically forced her.



Forced.



An image beyond Bethany\'s comprehension flashed into her mind, and this time she didn\'t repress her groan. Snape remained silent, deciding whether or not to urge her closer to her climax. His eyes glowed cruelly. He could see her arching her back, see her hand moving faster, see her hips bucking. He had to admit, she reacted passionately, and her virginity could quite easily be misbelieved.



\"Stop.\"



The word hit her like a sledgehammer.



Bethany halted as if woken from a trance, and her hand was whipped out of her underwear. She still sat, legs parted, cheeks flushed and clothes dishevelled.



\"You have confirmed my suspicions, Miss Beddows.\"



Bethany\'s breath was so erratic, Snape thought she was on the verge of tears. Maybe she was.



\"Wh-what suspicions, Sir?\"



\"Your behaviour is unacceptable-\"



\"Oh please Sir no! Don\'t expel me!\"



He moved so quickly that she didn\'t notice he had until he was merely inches from her cowering frame, blood drying on her leg.



\"Dt int interrupt me! If there is anything I despise more than your behaviour it is being interrupted!\"



His voice was so harsh, Bethany crossed her arms in front of her face. She felt like he was going to hit her.



\"Your behaviour is unacceptable,\" he spoke, softer now, lulling her, \"but I will not expel you. I believe that the shame you will feel at your conduct will be quite enough punishment for now.\"



He placed his hands over Bethany\'s forearms and uncrossed them, placing them at her sides. It seemed oddly tender.



\"Now go to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey will attend to your wound; it will require minimal attention. Do not be late for detention.\"



Detention. Bethany could have wept.



Snape finally allowed himself that smirk when her footsteps disappeared into nothing and the door was pulled shut. He had her now. He had them both.